Interludes
by dominiquesdh
Summary: Short-stories taking place between 1802 and 1807. Sequels to the Twelve days in August trilogy.
1. Births and Beginnings

I'll write my parts with no order but I'll sort them out afterwards. So don't be surprised if my story evolves. I've just done it by bringing the May chapter before the September chapter. I'll make it happen again. Feel free to let me know if you find it annoying. But know that each new part will be first posted in the last position stay there a few days before being put in the right chronological order. In the end the story should be easier to understand.

Thanks for your support.

* * *

This one was easy and asked to be written. Well here it is. I've done minimum editing so please don't be too harsh with me.

* * *

Births and Beginnings

* * *

Pemberley; May 1802

* * *

"No!"

Jane's voice was as soft as usual but there was iron in her tone and even Fitzwilliam should have been able to feel that the time for negotiations was no longer open.

But stressed as he was he failed to feel his sister's determination and he tried and insist.

"I want to see my wife! She needs me!"

"She needs to be able to concentrate on birthing your children, Fitzwilliam. In your current mood you would stress her even more than she already is."

"But…" insisted Fitzwilliam.

"Don't but me, Fitzwilliam" shushed Jane. "She is, aside from my husband and Maureen, the human being I would give my life for and I promise you that she is perfectly safe and doesn't need your presence right now. She's already more afraid for you than for her and seeing you out of your wits with worry won't help her in the least." She looked him in the eyes. "Do you trust me, Fitzwilliam?"

"Of course, I trust you, Jane…"

"Have you ever heard me lie to anybody, Fitzwilliam?"

He could only shake his head.

"Never…"

"So, please believe me when I swear to you that Lizzie and your children will survive the next hours. It is not wishful thinking, Fitzwilliam, it is my experience and the knowledge born out of the births I witnessed that gives me the confidence I show. Lizzie is in perfect health and her body is trimmed and much more in shape than most women you know. She-will-survive!"

Fitzwilliam closed his eyes and forced himself to relax.

"Sorry, Jane, but I'm really, really worried."

Jane came nearer and embraced him.

"I know, Fitzwilliam and it is exactly for this reason that I won't let her discover that the man she loves is about to become a nervous wreck! You'll be the first to be called as soon as the first of them is born and you'll have the dubious privilege to take care of him or her while the second is on his way. I'm quite sure this will suffice to concentrate your mind on something else than your fear!" She pushed him away and looked in his eyes. "And now" said she while showing him the door to his office, "you find something to do until I call you!"

He sighed and turned away. She stopped him just before he opened the door to his office.

"And remember that you soon will have your first born in your arms. He deserves better than a drunken father!"

* * *

Two hours later, Jane opened the door and came to him holding a little bundle wrapped in a plain blue blanket.

"Meet your son, Fitzwilliam, he is as healthy as possible and his mother is in excellent health but just yet taking a little break before, I'm sure of it, soon going on with this gentleman's sister."

Carefully Fitzwilliam took his infant son and placed him against his heart.

"Thanks, Jane. Let me know as soon as I can join my wife."

Jane nodded, smiled at him and went toward his office's door.

"Of course, I'll do. Meanwhile speak with your son, he's perhaps only a babe but don't doubt that he is very aware of what happens around him."

* * *

They looked at each other and Fitzwilliam was at a loss for words. There was a world of understanding in his son's eyes.

"Well son, I'm your father and you should be worried because I really don't know, just now, what to do with you…"

That got him a little gurgle and a frown.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, son, I suppose it's now or never to make myself better known." He took a long breath and smiled at the wrinkled face of his son.

"You must know, son, that the man you face is, from time to time, the most stupid human being you'll encounter. You deserve a fair warning that being the offspring of two very smart people will not give you any guarantee against being a perfect idiot. But, on the bright side, always remember that there are others around you and there is a good chance that not everybody will be foolish at the same time. So, please, never stay alone and isolated when you're sad or desperate. Don't take my habit to forget that loved ones are also those you can go to to get help."

He took a long and smoothing breath.

"Well, let's begin! You have the dubious honor to be the first born son of Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy, the later former gentleman farmer and present King of Wales." He smiled became a laugh. "Not that I can take credit for that last one. I never saw it coming and it took me totally by surprise. For my part I never was and still not am an ambitious man. I never even envisioned being able to become a pear of the realm –probably because I felt myself unworthy- and a King even less so. But your uncle Geoffrey, the man you are named after, did it to me without me having even a say the matter." He sniggered. "And you know what, son? I'm rather fond of the job he forced on me. Not that I'm so very good at it –yet- but if I listen to my teachers and your mother I'm not a total failure. I'm still learning and my teachers are, from time to time, rather desperate with me but their teaching is more or less effective." He bent over and sniffed at his son. He was very surprised at the fragrance he could smell. It was the most clean and natural scent he had ever savored. "And, even if it is difficult to believe, I do make a difference. My people are better off with me than they were before." He saw his son frown at him. "I swear, it's not boasting on my part, there are less poor and desperate people around since I –I should say _we_ because your mother is, when all is said and done, the most determined of both of us- came into power. What is my greatest achievement is directly related with your birth, son. I couldn't stand to risk losing your mother in childbed and I was quite sure that most husbands were sharing that fear with me. So I hired all elderly midwives I could find, mixed them with some of the doctors I was able to poach from your uncle's field hospitals and formed the first Royal Midwifery School ever created. And it had astounding effects. These last three months we only lost two mothers I know of and only five babes died after having survived their birth. And the improvement will be even greater in the years to come when my midwives will be installed in small towns and villages. And soon there will be doctors and nurses everywhere to heal my people." He stopped, took his courage in both hands and lifted his son till he could brush his face with a kiss.

He was rather surprised to hear a voice behind him.

"I agree with everything your father said" said Mr. Bennet. "But for the unworthy part…"

Fitzwilliam smiled at his father in law and with great precautions turned his son in order to let him see his grandfather.

"Meet your grandfather, Geoffrey. He's the father of most of your aunts save one or two…"

Following into his son's path Edward Bennet bowed in his grandson's direction.

"Edward Bennet, former gentleman farmer and present day idle bystander trying to cope with an ever increasing family." He smiled at Fitzwilliam and pointed at his grandson. "You know he won't break if you hold him a little tighter. Just be careful with his neck he's just spent nine months lying in the most comfortable bed imaginable and his muscles have yet to be strengthened to support his head."

"I know" Fitzwilliam said. "I got Jane's lessons at least a hundred times but I never would have believed that he would be so small."

"Well newborn are always small but I must admit that he is even smaller. Has probably something to do with him sharing a womb with a Bennet woman. If she's half as wild as her mother he had no choice but to let her take a lot of space…"

"He doesn't seem desperate…" said Fitzwilliam while looking at his son.

"No, he doesn't and he is even remarkably calm and focused for one his age. It is probably another legacy to his sharing a womb with little Jane." Edward Bennet shook his head. "You know I still think it is a bad idea to name your children for your preferred human beings around. Save for Geof, it will soon be very confusing with all these Williams, Janes and Elizabeths."

"We got no choice there. Lizzie and Jane had taken that decision out of our hands a long time ago. But we will find a way. Jane's daughter will probably end up a Betty, William a Billy and Jane a Janette." He smiled at his father in law. "The only sure thing I know is that Jane's daughter will never ever be called Eliza!"

Edward Bennet couldn't help but chuckle. Even if Caroline's relations with the Bennet tribe had improved since her marriage with George Augustus, Earl of Pembroke –as Caroline always added- , she still wasn't near to become Lizzie's or Jane's favorite sister in law.

"She could even take over Lizzie's nickname" said he finally. "Let's not forget that Lizzie isn't a suitable name for the consort of the King of Wales."

"No luck in that direction" said Fitzwilliam. "Everybody who matters is calling her Lizzie and she likes it that way. She's Lizzie in her heart and Elizabeth only for the show and protocol."

Fitzwilliam felt his son's tiny finger brushing against his hair. He smiled at his father in law.

"I can't believe how pleasant he smells. It is disturbing to think that with his innocence he will also lose that extraordinary fragrance."

Mr. Bennet came nearer and sniffed at his grandson.

"Indeed" said he finally. "I forgot how they smell when just born. I suppose it has to do with the fact that till now nothing twisted and earthbound has come into their system." He sniffed again. "But you are right it's awesome. And it reminds me of my first encounter with Jane. She was a little larger and less wrinkled. But her eyes were as focused on me as Geoff's are focused on you. As if she wanted to brand every image for ever in her mind." He kissed his grandson whose eyes seemed to shine brighter.

"Seems he likes me, Fitzwilliam" said he with a smile.

"Everybody likes you, father. Why would it be different for him?"

"World is full of fools, that's the real reason…"

* * *

Jane had come back with a second bundle and for a few minutes Fitzwilliam had been at the border of panic while holding his two loved babes. Mr. Bennet had come to save him and had taken Geoff to let the happy –but scared- father make his acquaintance with his daughter.

She had his wife's beautiful eyes but her hair was as dark as his. He had done with her as he had begun with his son and she had listened to him with what could only be called daughterly fervor.

He was just beginning to show her/them the beauties of Pemberley when Jane and the rest of the Sisters, wives or female cousins who had been at work with his heirs' birthing joined them in his parlor.

"She's ready to see you, Fitzwilliam" said Jane while Kitty and Georgiana were the happy aunts in charge of his offspring. He kissed both of them and literally ran to his bedroom where Lizzie was awaiting him.

* * *

"Why are you not in bed?"

She turned around and looked at him. She was standing at the window and had been looking at the flower covered gardens of Pemberley.

"I love you too, dear" she said with a teasing smile. He was immediately apologizing and at her side holding her as if she would fall apart within seconds.

"It was a very smooth birth, Fitzwilliam. I am tired but not exhausted. I'd like to walk with you in the park…"

He paled visibly. She didn't let him contradict her.

"You can always carry me home should I collapse, Fitzwilliam! But be reassured that I won't collapse, I just spent the three last hours standing on my feet and I really need to get them doing what they do best: walking." Her smile increased. "I promise I'll wait till morning to run and till next Saturday to jump into the lake."

* * *

"You promised and you stick to your word…"

"We Darcys, we have a long tradition of truthfulness" answered Elizabeth while basking in the midafternoon may sun that graced them with one beautiful day. "Smooth birth, beautiful twins and happy mother. Deal complete."

"Indeed" approved Fitzwilliam. "Deal complete!"

They were walking through Lizzie favorite flower beds and she was sniffing at as much flowers as possible.

"Have you been able to smell our children?"

"Jane gave me the opportunity as soon as they emerged from the pool…"

That stopped Fitzwilliam in his tracks.

"Emerge from the pool? What pool?"

"What pool? _The_ pool of course. What more secure place than our very own fairy pool is there?"

"But I believed you would give birth here…" stammered he while pointing at the window of their bedroom.

She shot him a knowing smile.

"Jane and I agreed that it would be a bad idea to introduce you to the finer details of what Jane was planning to secure mine and the babes' survival. We omitted to give you a complete account, that's all." She stopped his recriminations with a finger on his lips. "And it was for the best, the birth was perfect and we are all three, in perfect health."

She stopped, turned around and looked him in the eyes while holding his hands.

"In the whole world there is no better place to give birth, Fitzwilliam. I was perfectly relaxed and every push I gave was efficient. They just slipped out of me and cleaned themselves in the most glorious spring on earth."

"You gave birth to them while under water? Wasn't there a risk that they would drown?"

"Jane said they wouldn't and, once more, she was right." She glowed at him. "I saw them swim, Fitzwilliam, I could see in their eyes that they weren't in the least stressed. They even enjoyed it. Did you hear them cry?"

"I was in my parlor a mile away, I'm keen-eared but not over such a distance."

She cuddled against him.

"I just survived while giving birth to two marvelous and lively little Darcys and you are upset with me?"

He sighed.

"I'm not upset with you. I'm upset, period." He looked at her. "Why did you choose to hide it from me? I'm quite sure I would have agreed."

She tilted her head and didn't answer while smiling discreetly.

He forced himself to relax and finally nodded.

"Well, I would _probably _have agreed."

"After how long a discussion, Fitzwilliam? With you scared to death and utterly convinced that I was going to die like your mother died? No way you would have accepted Jane's experimentation. Not in your current state of mind. It was easier to ask for forgiveness; you wouldn't have granted us permission."

There was a long period of silence and Lizzie took great care not to force the subject. Her husband had to accept what had just happened without having the impression to have been browbeaten into it.

Finally he nodded.

"Alright, it was the smart move, I concur. And it had all the results you envisioned. And I admit that I would probably have refused you the try."

A smile lighted his face up.

"But you must convene that your sister is as manipulative as that blasted husband of hers."

"A beloved mate has a certain influence on his partner, nobody will deny the fact!" admitted Lizzie. "But you should be aware that there is a manipulative trait in each and every woman you'll encounter. No need to be married to Geoffrey d'Arcy to be able to be a successful schemer."

He nodded while holding her tighter. She sighed and let her head rest on his shoulder.

"I'm absolutely aware of that, love, but I was hoping that we had succeeded in building a manipulation free relation."

She shook her head.

"We have, Fitzwilliam" she whispered in his ear. "But you must admit that in this very matter we had no choice. You were scared to the point of having nightmares every time you were falling asleep. I know you to be a smart and comprehensive man but in matters pregnancy and birth giving the man had long ago give way to the frightened boy who has lost the most important woman in his life because of a difficult birthing. You were playing a role as long as you were awake but as soon as you could discard your self-control you were immediately reversing into a scared and nervous wreck. I sleep at you side, love, I've seen it every night we managed to share these last months." She pushed him away to be able to look into his face. "Now you know that I don't do childbirth dying and that, as a member of the famous Bennet women, I do know how to birth multiple kids safely and with a minimum of fuss. So, now you can go on playing King and making every effort to increase our family without being every second on the brink of nervous collapse."

He chuckled.

"Was it really so terrible?"

She nodded and her face was very serious when she answered.

"It was, Fitzwilliam and without Jane and the others I would have ended as wrecked as you. I was beginning to believe that I too would die in childbirth…"

"I'm sorry, love, I had no wi…"

She stopped him immediately.

"Of course you hadn't but as I said a beloved mate has a great influence on his partner and you were so sure that it would end badly that I began to be scared. That's when Jane got the idea of the pool. She had read von Humboldt's chronicles and had gathered the fact that certain American tribes used ponds to give birth to their children. She even invited him here to confirm what she hoped. And he confirmed that kids born in water naturally swim and hold their breath. And you have witnessed directly the fabulous healing powers of the pond, haven't you? All my fears disappeared the moment Jane came to me with her plan and I could anew become the serene and secured Bennet without playing a role. My nights stopped to be difficult…"

"I'm so sorry, dear…"

"Don't without my fears I'm quite sure Jane would never have thought about using the pond. Giving birth is a messy business and it felt like polluting the pond… We wouldn't have done it if we had be secured and in control. But it was a fabulous experience, Fitzwilliam, the grove was singing and sparkling with energy and I never in my whole life have I felt a greater satisfaction… Next time you'll be with me and witness everything!"

* * *

"Don't we risk to squash them?" asked Fitzwilliam while looking at his twins sleeping between his wife and himself.

"There's a little risk but I doubt it. The rattan of the coffins will protect them long enough to awake us and I really want them to be at my side for this first night out of my womb."

"I would have loved to have you at my side for the first night after their birth."

"Well I'd probably need a few days to recover from my ordeal before going back to those nightly occupations you were probably thinking of."

"I didn't…"

"Yes you did and so did I but even if with the help of the pool the birthing went very well I can't deny that I'm still recovering. I'll let you know the second I feel ready."

He reached out and pulled her to him. They kissed lengthily under the interested scrutiny of their offspring.

"I hope so!" said Fitzwilliam. "I really hope so."

* * *

Next morning he had the pleasure to awake with his wife cuddled at his side.

He rapidly looked around and saw the twins' coffins placed in two armchairs blocked against the side of the bed. He felt Lizzie stir at his side and was delighted to see her smile in the darkness of their bedchamber.

"Hello sleepyhead" whispered she. "I hope you had a restful night because while you slept I fed them twice and you didn't stir once."

"Sorry about that, you should have awoken me…"

"You needed your sleep, love, after all you had to overcome the exhausting business of waiting on your kids' birth."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you" grumbled he.

"It wasn't sarcasm, just a pinch of irony. And no I haven't awakened you because your usefulness would have been rather small. I don't forget that you have that little side occupation that keeps you awake eighteen hours out of twenty-four seven days a week. I doubt very much that an exhausted King governs better than a happy and rested King. And since it was the first time for weeks that you slept without having bad dreams, I let you sleep without the least remorse or misgiving."

"I have the whole week before I must go back to Cardiff. I could have slept in." He took her into his arms. "I'd have liked to see you feed them."

"You'll get ample occasions to see me do it and if I sniff it rightly you'll very soon have the privilege to change your heirs' clothes. I fear their heavenly smell hasn't lasted more than a few hours."

"We'll bathe them and it will be back. Papa has said that the memory of your fragrance has never left him. He was always able to smell it when he was reminded of Jane's or yours birth."

She kissed him and stood up with precautions in order not to wake the twins.

"You are such a forlorn romantic, love. I'm going to the bathroom, please look after them, I'm soon back…"

* * *

They had been washed, bathed, changed and fed before their parents could even think about their own needs. Even with the help of a score of servants it took a whole hour before Lizzie and Fitzwilliam could go to the sitting room where the rest of the family was awaiting the arrival of the newest members of the household.

Both were immediately snatched up by the horde of aunts and grandmothers who were impatient to officially make a better acquaintance with them. In fact only Mrs. Bennet had been absent from the groove where the birthing had taken place. And that was only because she had voluntarily played the role of decoy in order to protect her daughters from prying eyes. She had enjoyed every second of her role and she had been rewarded for her patience with the possibility to guard her first grandchildren while both parents made a stroll in the park of Pemberley. All in all yesterday had been one of the highlights of her life.

She kissed Mr. Bennet soundly and he rewarded her with a happy smile while offering his first grandson a finger to grasp.

"Aren't they fabulous?" whispered he. "My only regret is that there won't be another Bennet after we die…"

She smiled at her husband.

"Indeed you are the last one but, in a certain manner, it is a good thing because I doubt there could have been a better one ever…"

He snickered at that lie and kissed her once more for it.

Mrs. Bennet looked up and made a sign to Mrs. Reynolds who was making her morning survey. She was immediately at her side.

"Dear" said Mrs. Bennet. "Now is probably the best moment to gather the whole household to present them the new heir of Pemberley…"

Mrs. Reynold's smile increased.

"They are all impatient… They have heard the rumors but since the birthing had taken place… somewhere else most have had no real vision of them."

"Give the young parents a half hour more to eat and relax and then gather everybody in the Great Ball room."

Mrs. Reynolds frowned.

"Normally, when the weather is fine, we gather before the front porch."

Mrs. Bennet smiled back.

"Well, this will be a Bennet innovation, dear. We have a little household in Meryton and we share the House with our servants. They are all trusted and loyal retainers, they deserve to be hosted in Pemberley's most beautiful quarters. Let's not forget that they will be shown the Heirs to the throne of Wales." She cast a glance towards her son in law. "Don't be afraid, he'll agree!"

Mrs. Reynolds nodded and stormed out of the sitting room in her most graceful manner.

Mrs. Bennet offered her grandson to her husband and stood up.

"I'll warn Lizzie and Fitzwilliam that the official part of the day is about to begin. I'm sure they will love every second of it."

MR. Bennet nodded and smiled at his grandson.

"I doubt it but I'm sure they will play their role to perfection. What about you, young man?"

He got a gurgle and a spittle bubble as an answer.

He decided Geoffrey Darcy agreed.


	2. Duroc's Journey

Duroc's journey

* * *

September 1802: Kozani (Ottoman Empire) / Pemberley

* * *

It was funny…

Well, funny wasn't, perhaps, the best qualifier. Try weird and you'll be more on target…

He was floating just under the canopy of his tent looking at himself and those –numerous- people who were looking at him.

Well, not really looking at him since he was here above them, but at his… He forced himself to say/think it… They were looking at his unmoving injured crushed body.

He remembered everything that happened six hours and twenty three minutes ago. Himself charging with the whole artillery train in his wake to take possession of that blasted hill.

Their success and the surprise of the enemy when he began to blast them in pieces with his cannons.

Of course they had reacted and launched a charge against his not very well defended positions.

His only infantry battalion –consular guards, the best of the best- was able to hold the position at first. They hold it against three assaults.

The fourth, launched with heavy Janissary Cavalry, was the last.

They breached his positions and overwhelmed his men.

Not him because he was already out of the fight since, a few minutes before, a canon ball had encountered his breastplate and thrown him fifty meters behind his last canon.

In a funny way that canon ball had –by not killing him on the spot- probably saved his life because the charging Janissaries had killed every other officer of his little artillery train. Most of his men too!

He, being outside the perimeter and more dead than alive, they had overseen.

Murat's light cavalry had crashed into the Janissaries a mere minutes after they overwhelmed his position saving his artillery and a few of his men but above all preventing the Turks to use his canons against his own army. Meanwhile, as usual, Kellerman's infantry had crushed the enemy and won the battle.

He had been transported to his tent with the best field doctor doing his utmost to save his life.

Until now he had been successful, he was still –barely- alive.

* * *

He was in quite an awkward position.

Not really alive and not yet dead.

_Or am I dead and just too dumb to accept the truth? Could this be purgatory? Am I just waiting upon the decision which will direct me toward Hell or Heavens?_

He felt like frowning. Well perhaps he was frowning but in his state it was difficult to judge. He felt like having a face but it was difficult to believe being at the same time floating in the air and having a real body.

He had tried a few things and wasn't really reassured. He could feel –and touch- himself but he was unable to touch anything else. His hand was going through everything made out of matter, including the bodies of his attendants.

No doubt that he was a spirit. But was he dead? He didn't feel dead. He even felt good in certain ways. No pain, no frustration, no regrets…

Well that last part wasn't totally true. If he was dead he definitely regretted no longer being alive. Or to be frank he regretted no longer being able to be able to join his family.

A smile came on his face. He could feel his muscles forming a smile on his face! But what muscles? He was pure energy and…

_Stop it, Géraud! It matters not. You're a spirit and that's it. It's obvious that spirits have feelings and some of those feelings are, if all is said and done, probably only memories of life past_.

A sudden sadness came over him. His second child would never know his father. It was more or less a curse. Emilie hadn't known her mother and Rose –he had always been sure it would be another girl and the Bennet propensity at hatching girls had done nothing to alter his impression- would never know her father.

She wouldn't be an orphan. She would have a superbly loving family with lots and lots of mother figures who would cover her with love and attention. Too many mother figures?

Well it would be up to Darcy to rise up to the challenge to be the father figure to another little one whose family had been shattered by life. Seeing what he had achieved with his sister there was no doubt in Duroc's mind that Fitzwilliam Darcy would be the best of all substitutes.

Fitzwilliam would be a perfect father figure and a loving and compassionate Pater Familias. If he was able to manage the mass of fiery and obstinate girls/women/wives who were, just now gathering around him.

But he would have been so happy to be able to hold his daughter in his arms. To look into her eyes and to discover there the mirror image of his love for her…

* * *

There was a stir in the crowd and within seconds his tent was empty save for a First Consul, three Filed Marshals, two doctors, a nurse and, of course, himself.

He could feel –_how was that possible_?- that Napoleon was between emotions. Elated to have been able to win a battle which, by all tactical means, should have been lost and crushed by the toll he had been forced to pay to snatch that victory out of defeat's hungry jaws.

But the Sultan's thrown his last reserves in this battle and now the last Ottoman army was nothing more than a memory.

"Will he live?"

The doctor shrugged.

"By all means he should be dead. No breastplate ever built should have withheld the impact of a twelve pound canon ball. It's just a miracle!"

"But will he live?" insisted Napoleon.

"He has seven cracked ribs, a shattered right arm and a cranial trauma who would have killed a lesser man. He was lucky he only cracked his skull against a boulder after his long roll down the slope had slowed him down enough not to explode his skull. Now he is in a coma. I've done what I could do; the rest is entirely in his hands. He has the will to live he'll come back, he hasn't: he dies."

_Of course I want to live! I already missed the birth of my first child I won't miss the birth of the second. Just give me more time…_

"How long can he survive in this state?"

"He won't survive if we don't find a way to feed him. Until now he won't swallow! I found a way to force water down his throat but I'm unable to force food past his tongue. He's a strong man and he will be able to survive up to two weeks while unconscious but after that he will be too frail to recover. "

Napoleon nodded and smiled weakly.

"Do your best, doctor… I count on you to save him."

"I swore an oath, I always do my best, Consul" countered the doctor. "But he being a friend will give me even more motivation to outdo myself."

* * *

The hours crept along and since looking at himself wasn't the most interesting of all spectacles, he was beginning to get mightily bored. He signed.

_I wish I could change the…_

And there they were.

His Mary with his daughter and, of course, how could it be different, the rest of the Bennet Gynaceum looking over the battalion of babes now filling up Pemberley's nursery to the brink.

He smiled thinking about his daughter soon to be part of that little boisterous tribe.

"…pare them, Lydia!" Jane d'Arcy was saying while frowning. "They are only babes. You can't yet decide which one is more lively or more sedate. They are in that phase were they spend most of their time eating and sleeping. It's too soon to decide which one is more awake than the other."

"It's your William I spoke about!" Lydia said. "You can't deny that he wriggles a lot more than Sean!"

"Sean is younger" said Jane. "It's normal he's not yet as lively as William. Four months is a long time for so young!"

Lydia puffed and looked toward heavens.

"I really hope that husband of yours soon decides to come back because with each passing day you are more insufferable! These last months had been a real ordeal." She stood up and stomped out of the room.

_Husband of yours? What is she talking about? Is there a new man in Jane's life? _

Jane looked at Mary and he could see that Lydia's remark had been painful.

"Am I?" asked Jane in a dead voice and Mary could only answer by making a face.

"I must admit that since Sean's birth you're a lot more irascible than before." Mary made a gesture to stop Jane's argument. "I don't blame you, Jane. I feel myself angrier with each day I spend without getting news from my husband. He said it before going to war that he wasn't the letter writing type but I really never imagined that he was the never writing type! How difficult can it be to take a feather or a pen to give me a few commentaries about what has happened to him so far? I really would have thought that he would take the time to answer at least once a week…"

_I'm fighting a war. Writing letters to loved ones is not a thing we generals do… And my abysmal writing skill is nothing I want you to show to your sisters._

"He's fighting a war" said Emilie. "He probably has lots of more important things to do!"

"I don't ask for a novel" grumbled Mary. "Just two or three words to show that he still is alive would be enough! This silence of him is driving me crazy. And the fact that the news is not very good hasn't improved my mood."

_We won every battle we fought! What better news can there be_?

"They have won every single battle against the Turks" pleaded Emilie. "What better news can there be?"

"There were thousands of casualties and more than a thousand fatalities since the beginning of that campaign" said Mary. "And I don't add the Turks and their allies in this death toll. These battles are ugly bloody massacres. And the man I love is just in the middle of all that bloody mess!" She looked at Jane. "I'm grateful that at least Geoffrey is no longer forced to participate!"

_He's already dead. I'm quite sure he would have preferred to be with me on the battlefield than drown in that bloody cloaca. _

"So do I" agreed Jane, "but it's almost a year now, I would have liked to at least have news about his whereabouts even if he is not at my side!"

_My God she still believes he's alive._

"You know Geoffrey, dear" said Mary. "He won't come back before everything is perfectly prepared for his return. As I see it, once he's back, he will have the perfect story to stay without ever having to leave you again."

He couldn't help but smile. Mary was the most compassionated person he had ever encountered. Of course she wouldn't shatter her beloved sister's fantasy world. She would find the words to mitigate and soothe. He went to her and brushed her lips with his.

_I love you so much, dear!_

He was rather surprised by her reaction. She frowned, looked in his general direction and her hand began to squeeze Emilie's arm.

"Please, go get all my sisters, dear. I need every one of them…"

"Even Lydia?"

"All of them, I said, Lydia's upset but she won't refuse to come if you tell her that I need to build a circle. Hurry, please, since I'm not sure if what I'm just now feeling will be of any duration…"

Emilie flew out of the room and within minutes the little group surrounding the five babes counted every Bennet, Darcy, d'Arcy, Bingley or Duroc available in Pemberley. He looked at them while they reorganized the chairs to form a circle.

"What is it?" asked Jane.

"I felt something weird" answered Mary. "I'm sure it is linked with Géraud. I don't know why but I'm sure…"

"Bad news?" whispered Lizzie.

Mary made a face and shrugged.

"I don't think so" answered she. "But it could be. It's a feeling I can't, yet, wrap myself around. But since it's about Géraud and he is in the middle of a war, it could be bad news." She smiled faintly at Emilie who was joining the babes in the center of the circle. "We'll soon know."

They all stopped talking, reached for each other's hands and closed their eyes.

What seemed a second later he could see a second Mary popping out of herself and, funnily, both Maries frowned in unison when the floating one saw him.

"What happened?" he heard and he couldn't have the least doubt that his wife was speaking with him.

"You see me?"

His face must have been funny because his wife's stern face was soon illuminated by a smile.

"Seems so…" she said while floating at his side. He was so surprised to feel her lips on his that he made a hasty retreat… two stories up!

She soon was at his side.

"So that's how you react to your wife's kiss? You run away?"

"I could feel you… I could feel your lips on mine! How is that possible while we are without substance?"

She took his hand and pulled him back in the parlor where she was sitting with her sisters and his daughter.

"I prefer having a look on the babes" she explained. "I trust Emilie to be the perfect guardian but she's alone and there are five of them. They can be rather difficult when they convince each other that it's time to be at the center of the stage. And our presence should be enough to hold their attention for quite some time."

He looked at the babes and was surprised to see their eyes following them.

"Do they look at us?"

"Of course they do" she answered. "We are both in the spirit world and we are glowing like nothing they have ever seen. It will be a few years before they convince themselves to become blind."

She frowned once more and placed herself in front of him.

"What-Happened?" she insisted

"I was stroke by a cannon bullet and I'm in a coma."

He made a face and tried and grasped her hand. His hand just went through hers. She saw it and soon she was holding him and he could feel it as if he had been in flesh. He took every advantage of the possibility but undressing her. After a few intense kisses, she smiled at him.

"I am giving you the impression that we are corporeal but to go on any further along that road we need either to be in the flesh or you to progress very fast in the art of walking the spirit world."

He felt himself blush but her laughing eyes showed him that she was teasing him.

"I'm so glad to be able to see you and speak to you, _mon amour_. I feared I wouldn't be able to bid you farewell before I die." She frowned but didn't look surprised, there was only two reasons for a soul to wander the spirit world and she was quite sure that her husband had no spiritual experience the day he marched on toward the Ottoman Empire. "I'm badly injured, dear and even if your breastplate did save my life when the cannon ball stroke me, the following concussion to my head was enough to put me into a coma. I could probably survive if I'd be able to feed myself. Since I won't swallow, I'm probably going to starve to death!"

She shook her head and came nearer to brush his lips with a feather winged kiss.

"I'm quite sure it won't come to that… I'll just have to ask the resident healer what we can do to help you." She kissed him once more. "Just show me where your body is before I return into my body. I will have to establish a link to your injured body in order to speed the healing process." She smiled at him. "Don't worry, we won't let you die on us…"

* * *

"If we have a link to his body" said Jane, "I see no reason why we shouldn't be able to heal him! I'm not sure how to exactly do it but we'll just have to try until we succeed." She looked at Mary. "Failure is not admissible, do we agree?" Mary nodded with energy. "But since you are linked to the patient it will be up to you to do all the work, Mary dear. I'll show you how I did it but since you are pregnant your body should be in the right mood to speed up the creation of body cells."

"What about the distance?" asked Maureen. "He is a long way from us, won't it hamper our efforts?"

"Distance is of no importance in the spirit world" answered Mary. "He could be on Mars it wouldn't matter. What matters is the linkage between giver and receiver." She smiled and blushed. "And don't worry such a link exists on more than one level!"

_Indeed, it exists_, thought Duroc who was looking at the whole scene with a remarkable detachment.

"We could help him" went on Mary, "even if his spirit wasn't with us. But since he was able to journey to me it will be all the easier. His spirit and his body are linked via a light cord which will funnel our healing directly to his body."

"What have we to do?" asked Georgiana.

"Just link your hands and imagine a bright light flowing from your heart" answered Jane. "That light is your contribution to the healing process. I'll transform it into the actual healing energy and Mary will convey it to her husband…"

"And?" insisted Lydia.

"And with luck and God's help his injuries will be healed" answered Jane.

"Immediately?" asked Georgiana.

"I don't know" said Jane. "It is a first for all of us. I do feel that it will be the right move but I'm not sure about the exact result of our intervention. I'm sure we'll save is life but for the rest it will be a discovery for all of us."

Mary looked at her sisters.

"Are we ready? I'm sorry but I'm quite impatient to begin…"

They all nodded and linked their hands.

"You are in charge, Mary" said Jane. "I'm just the focal point for the healing; it will be up to you to direct the healing energies to the spots where they are needed. And don't forget to bridge the flow around your womb. The babe will be safe and won't come at risk, don't worry. But by letting the energy touch him you'll increase the chances of success." She smiled at Mary. "His link with his father is even better than yours."

Mary nodded and shook her head.

"Let's begin, then…"

* * *

She was back. But this time she was literally bursting with energy and light.

"You're even more beautiful as a spirit…" he whispered when she took his hand and smiled at him.

"That is because this is how I really am. There's no matter here to hinder me showing my true self. Or yours, for that matter. Here we could be forever young if we chose to be trapped here in-between."

"In-between? Than this is really purgatory?"

"No, it's in-between. We are between matter and some higher energy we will understand as soon as we accept to go on to what awaits us on the other side of the veil."

"It seems much better here than in what you call matter." He poked her and was more than happy to feel her against his fingers. "I could begin to like it here. Especially with you being at my side."

She thanked him with a light and ethereal kiss.

"It is but it is also a trap. There is no evolution here, just eternal still-stand. Some spirits do chose to stay here. It is a sorry choice but it is their choice. We won't make that choice because we know that we are meant to evolve not to stagnate…"

"Are we" asked he. "As said I could like it here…"

"Believe me, it's perhaps better than the world of matter but it is not where you want to stay for all eternity. There are more interesting things to do!"

"But being with you seems the very best thing to do just now."

"And that's what you are going to get but it will be as a living human being. It will be as my loving husband. "

"I'll be getting old and wrinkled."

"So will I! And we will look in the eyes of our kids and grandkids. Witness them grow up and be happy or sad but alive and evolving."

She took him by the hand and soon they were floating over his injured body.

"What have I to do?"

"You must go back into your body. That's where your soul belongs not roaming the in-between."

"But I will lose contact with you" he said while taking her in his arms.

"No you won't! Answer to my letters and you'll have all the contact normal people have in normal lives while being a continent apart."

"I'm not the writing type…"

"Three words will be enough to reassure me even if not sufficient to satisfy me…"

"I'll do my best" he said with an impish smile.

"I really hope so!"

* * *

"You worried us, Géraud. We thought we would lose you."

Duroc smiled at his friend and commander in chief.

"I'm not so easy to kill, Boss. It hasn't be smelted the canon ball that will be able to kill me" answered Duroc while making a face.

He probed his chest.

"God, that hurts."

"Seven broken ribs" explained the surgeon. "Your breastplate took the brink of the impact but it was a real twelve pounder that crashed into it. It is useless now but it really did its job. Without it you'd be as dead as possible."

"Well" sighed Duroc. "Perhaps I should thank my wife for her timely gift? Is there a sheet of paper somewhere? I'd like to write her that I'm alright. I wouldn't want rumors to reach her before my own relation of the events which brought me abed arrives."

"Do that and I'll do the same" said Napoleon with a bright smile on his face. "Because today I got twice good news: you'll live and Josephine is pregnant!" He shook his head. "How fate works. It could have been the worst week of my life and it will probably be the best!"


End file.
